


Ctrl Freak

by Mars_McKie



Series: TAG OC The Hacker [2]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Mild Threat, Original Character(s), Rescue Missions, Workplace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-03-17 21:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13667289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: It seemed as though the threat of The Hacker was behind them, but then Scott and Virgil received a summons to a board meeting at Tracy Industries





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two of my series with my TAG OC- The Hacker. At parts of the first fic are referenced, this story will probably make more sense if you've read the first part first!
> 
> I currently only have two chapters of this fic complete, so after the second chapter I might not be updating it for a while, but enjoy!

Days and eventually weeks passed after International Rescue had their run in with the Hacker in Boston. However, there had been no further reports of files being stolen and despite the news reporter Kat Cavanaugh’s insistence that authorities were closing in on her location, Colonel Casey admitted to International Rescue that the GDF were no closer to finding the Hacker than they were to finding a department where Ned Tedford could work without causing trouble.

“Are you sure the Hacker isn’t one of your long lost relatives?” Alan had asked Kayo. “I mean first the Hood was your uncle...”

Kayo gritted her teeth but Gordon piped up, “Yeah, what if she’s, like, your long lost sister, or cousin-”

“Oh god!” Alan exclaimed, clapping a hand over his mouth. “What if the Hacker is the Hood’s daughter?”

Alan and Gordon cringed, while Kayo rolled her eyes and ended the conversation. She was still irritated that none of them had contacted her when Scott was clearly in trouble, yet agreed it might have put him in more danger. The Hacker hadn’t been shy in using the threat of violence if International Rescue hindered her.

In truth, none of them could really be sure that the Hacker and the Hood weren’t related, though Scott (the only person to know for certain what the Hacker looked like) didn’t think he’d seen much of a resemblance. All that really meant was she wasn't bald. The only reference the others had was Virgil’s composite painting, which stood half-finished in a corner of the lounge as he struggled to get a true likeness from descriptions alone.

Rescue missions came and went, helping to push the Hacker to the back of their minds so that one night a month later, Scott pondered out loud to Virgil over her parting words of never wishing for their paths to cross again. Perhaps she truly didn’t mean International Rescue any ill will, yet as Virgil reminded Scott that didn’t mean she hadn’t posed a threat to them.

Six weeks after Boston, Virgil was fast asleep, starfished on his bed, when the emergency siren went off and his room was filled with flashing red lights. Half-awake and with his mind suddenly full of adrenalin, Virgil scrambled out of bed, pulled his favourite red shirt on over his pyjama top (the tracksuit bottoms he wore to bed would have to do for now) and rushed down to the lounge. It was still dark outside. Far too early for his liking.

Within seconds he was joined by Scott, Gordon, Alan and Kayo, all in various states of dress. Scott was still in his pyjama shirt and trousers, Gordon wore a dressing gown (though Virgil suspected he had rather little on underneath it), Kayo was in a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, and Alan was still fully dressed (whether he’d done an all night video game marathon or had fallen asleep like that again, Virgil wasn’t sure).

John’s hologram flashed up on the holo-table and they all gathered round for the briefing.

“What’s the deal, John?” Scott asked, his eyes wide and alert. Behind him, Gordon yawned.

“There’s no time to explain,” said John urgently. “We’ll need Thunderbirds 1, 2 and Shadow. Gordon will be riding shotgun with Virgil, Alan with Scott. You’ll need Module 5.”

“F.A.B.” Virgil nodded and Gordon saluted.

“Set a course for the West Coast of North America. You need to move fast.”

“F.A.B.” the four boys and Kayo chorused as they made to start their prospective launch procedures. Virgil stood on the platform and the portrait of the rocket flipped him backwards into the loading chute. As he sped downwards, mechanical arms dressed him in his uniform, sash, wrist armaments and boots, all on top of his pyjamas. He flipped on the track and he could see the light in the hangar at the end of the tunnel.

Both Scott and Grandma had voiced concerns about how it was always a split second difference between Virgil swinging safety into Thunderbird 2, or him missing the grab and flying face first into the edge of the hatch (even their father had raised an eyebrow after the time Virgil had nearly gone over the nose of Thunderbird 2 and ended up like a bug on the windscreen), but Virgil insisted that it was the quickest way between the lounge and the hangar (and it was a mistake he would only make once).

Virgil swung safely in, closed the hatch, sat in his pilot’s seat and began running through take-off procedure. With Module 5 loaded, he was joined in the cockpit by Gordon (now in his dry suit, though with his dressing gown still on top) who took the co-pilot seat, a smile playing across his lips. Virgil would have questioned it, but they were in a hurry.

The cliff face opened, the palm trees flipped back to reveal the wide runway and Thunderbird 2 glided out into the night. Soon, they were blasting off and chasing Thunderbirds 1 and Shadow into the distant sunrise.

“OK John, what sort of emergency are we dealing with?” Scott asked again, his and Alan’s images popping up on the holocomms, soon to be joined by John, then Kayo in Shadow.

Virgil made to adjust his flight path out of habit, but found his controls were non-responsive.

“Scott, John, I’ve lost control over Thunderbird 2!” Virgil exclaimed. They were maintaining speed and altitude, but his ‘Bird wasn’t following his commands. He turned the steering wheel and pressed a few buttons experimentally. Nothing happened.

“Hey, what gives? I’ve lost control too!” Scott said in alarm, trying to adjust his thrusters. Virgil could see Thunderbird 1 in the distance- like Thunderbird 2, they didn’t seem to be losing any altitude and were still maintaining the predestined flight plan, but the pilot had no control.

Thunderbird Shadow looped past the cockpit, and a look to Kayo’s hologram showed she was smiling, Shadow unaffected by the problem. She clearly knew something that he didn’t and Virgil remembered how Gordon had been smiling in the same way. He turned to Gordon with a suspicious eye and his younger brother smirked serenely back.

“EOS, confirm autopilot locked?” John said to the AI on-board Thunderbird 5.

“ _Confirmed_ ,” said the child-like voice of EOS. “ _I have full control over Thunderbirds 1 and 2. Resetting destination to downtown Los Angeles now_.”

“John, you planned to take control of our ships?” Scott snarled. Virgil wasn’t happy about this turn of events either, but his irritation turned to surprise as another hologram joined their conversation. It was a face they hadn’t seen in years.

“Actually, I did,” said the man. He was in his sixties and had a wide, smiling face. He wore a dark blue suit with tie and an insignia on his lapel of a wing over the globe with _TI_ imprinted on it. A chauffeur’s hat covered his shiny palette and what little hair he had left grew out of the sides of his head.

“Lane?” Virgil gasped, then had the odd feeling of a stone dropping into his stomach as he realised where they were heading.

“I’m afraid you boys have only got yourselves to blame,” said Lane, his eyes crinkled at the edges. Virgil and Scott exchanged glances and gulped nervously. “The Board can’t wait for you any longer. You two have _work_ to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved up posting this fic as Scribbles97 said on TAG Team Secret Santa/Cupid on Tumblr that all they wanted for Valentine's Day was the Tracy boys in suits. This fic was ready to comply with that wish so this chapter is for you! Thank you for organising another fab Secret event! <3

Less than an hour later, Thunderbirds 1 and 2 were landing on the outskirts of Los Angeles where a black Mercedes was waiting to collect them. Lane -the boys’ old chauffeur while they had lived in LA and who still worked within their father’s company- was a friendly sight despite the circumstances with which they had been brought to the location. Scott and Virgil were ordered to change into dark blue two-piece suits, white shirts, black ties and smart shoes that had been stowed in Module 5, then their younger brothers and Kayo departed with their precious ‘Birds.

The sun was now up properly and the streets of LA flashed past the tinted windows as they rushed towards their destination.

Scott adjusted his cufflinks while Virgil tugged at the tie around his neck.

“I can’t believe you got us here in this way,” Scott groaned mutinously.

“I’m sorry, Master Scott, but you did ignore the Board’s previous summons,” Lane admonished lightly.

“We had rescues!” Scott protested, fidgeting with his cufflinks. This wasn’t entirely untrue, Scott admitted to himself, but Lane did have a point that he and Virgil had been putting this trip off for as long as possible.

“Stop playing with your cufflinks, Scott- you’ve got a laser in there,” said John, his hologram hovering in the air from the overhead display. Scott whipped his hand away from his wrist.

“Are these Brains’ custom tuxedos?” said Virgil, marvelling over the functions hidden within his suit.

“Indeed. They’re equipped with laser cufflinks, stabilising foam in your sleeves, secret radios in your collars, and magnetic socks,” John reeled off. “Also I couldn’t talk him out of it- Brains built a glider suit into the new jackets.”

“Ha! A glider suit, huh? I can’t wait to try that out!” Scott grinned.

“That brings back memories,” Lane sighed from the driver’s seat. “Driving you boys around, picking you up from school, track meets, piano recitals, the desert after Master Scott’s glider got caught in a crosswind...”

Virgil laughed as Scott grimaced at the memories of his adrenalin junkie teenage years, before inspecting his tuxedo again and asking, “How dangerous are you expecting this Board meeting to be?”

“This is just a precaution,” said John. “It’s not impossible that the two of you might seem like an easy target, but these business issues need to be dealt with in person. In any instance where the board requires a majority vote, our father’s regulations dictate that so long as three of us are present and are in agreement, we can represent a vote from all five of us.”

“So why aren’t you down here?” asked Scott. “Or is Grandma going to be joining us?”

“I’ll be joining through holo-link as I need to monitor calls. We can only afford to lose two members of International Rescue at a time,” said John. Scott couldn’t help but notice an air of satisfaction to his voice.

“Why couldn’t EOS have monitored calls instead?” Virgil smirked.

“It’s easier this way,” said John, though his eyes were shifty. Scott knew John was only trying to avoid coming down to Los Angeles himself, in much the same way Scott and Virgil had also been putting the trip off. They couldn’t entirely blame him.

“But why can’t we have taken part via holo-link as well? What if there’s a rescue and we’re needed?” said Scott.

“Alan and Gordon are covering in Thunderbirds 1 and 2-” said John.

“If there is a single scratch on Thunderbird 2...” Virgil snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the camera.

“Heh heh, you two always were protective of your things,” Lane laughed lightly.

“Hey, Lane,” said Virgil leaning forward to address their driver. “Do you reckon we could swing by somewhere and pick up a coffee? Only we did get woken up at the crack of dawn.”

“Too late for that, Master Virgil,” said Lane. “We’re already here.”

They were in the financial district of LA where skyscrapers had been erected like shrines to the heavens, and the most imposing of the buildings was the office headquarters of Tracy Industries. A monolith of glass and steel, despite its age it reached higher than any of the surrounding structures, refusing to bow down to the new corporations. It stood as a reminder of their father’s old business ideal of pushing to be the best and proving they were the best by building a skyscraper that would dwarf all others around it.

The black Mercedes swung around to the lobby where a large group of reporters and paparazzi were gathered. No doubt they had been tipped off that two of the Tracy boys would be turning up.

As Lane got out of the car to open the door for them, Scott whispered to Virgil, “Ready?”

Virgil bit his lip and mumbled, “No.”

“Me neither,” Scott admitted. Nevertheless, they both fixed smiles onto their faces as they climbed out of the car and were instantly blinded by the wall of camera flashes.

“Um, John?” Scott touched his jacket collar and muttered discretely into the radio. “Our ties are fitted with the photon scramblers to obscure our faces in photographs, right?”

“Sorry Scott, that’s the bow ties only,” said John’s voice in his ear. “Besides, it’s good to feed the press once in a while.”

Scott could imagine their pictures slapped across the covers of celebrity magazines by tomorrow. He supressed a groan as he recognised Gertie Bunson, the reporter that he had gone out of his way to avoid talking to while he had been on the HyperTube rescue. She now made a beeline over to him, mic in hand and the camera floating along behind her.

“Scott Tracy!” she called over the clamouring of the other reporters. She thrust the mic towards his face. “You’re back here at the headquarters of Tracy Industries, one of the largest aeronautic companies in the world. What has it been like to have the responsibility of this company put into yours and your brothers’ hands at such a young age?”

“Um, hi, Gertie,” said Scott, doing his best to decipher her question. He glanced over to Virgil for help, but he was stuck in the midst of another group of reporters. “It has been a big responsibility, but we are delighted to have seen Tracy Industries continue to grow over the years.”

Scott inwardly cringed over his answer. He disliked interviews, especially when they were talking about business, and he knew his answer had been vague. He had a feeling that some evening news channel would probably be dissecting everything he said in this interview.

“Could you tell my listeners what it is like being a big businessman while also working as a member of International Rescue?” Gertie continued, ignoring Scott’s lack of enthusiasm.

“So much of what we do in International Rescue is made possible by the work done here,” said Scott. In comparison to business, International Rescue was something he could talk about for days. “So much of the fortune amassed by Tracy Industries has gone straight back into our Thunderbirds and has given us the chance to do so much good in the world. The work we do as International Rescue is all encompassing in our lives, but with the hard work and dedication of all of the staff here we know that Tracy Industries is in safe hands.”

“So the inventions here at Tracy Industries have a practical use in International Rescue?”

“Well, Gertie, I couldn’t tell you all of our secrets,” Scott grinned suavely. In truth, Tracy Industries played a very small part in equipping International Rescue. The majority of the components were developed and put together on the island, and they all knew that Brains preferred to keep his name out of the limelight. “But there are fantastic advances being made here. I know the company has seen huge developments in making Hover-tech commercially available-”

Scott’s voice trailed off. He spotted over the heads of the press a reporter slip away from the group. It was such a trivial thing, but it seemed strange that they should be leaving when the equivalent of the main event was going on. A flash went off in his face and he lost focus.

“And what are your thoughts as to the growing competition?” said Gertie, pulling Scott back into the interview.

“Huh?” Scott said wildly.

“Tracy Industries is facing new competition in the aeronautics division. What are your thoughts on companies such as Benton Aeronautics? Their aircraft -the EJ2- has been the most widely invested project in the industry in the past twelve months,” Gertie reiterated.

“Um...” Scott really didn’t know what to say here; he hadn’t given the company much thought before. Luckily, a PA came over and asked Scott to follow him up to the meeting. Scott excused himself from Gertie, grabbed Virgil’s arm to drag him away from the photographers, and together they made their way over to the lifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the next chapter ready yet, so this might have a hiatus for a little while, but it will be back!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter! I haven't forgotten about this fic and I will continue to post updates as and when.

The reporter that Scott had seen slip away breathed a sigh of relief as she made it down the corridor and into an empty stairwell. It hadn’t been her intention to get so close to the two Tracy boys, but she thought it would look highly suspicious if one of the reporters moved away from the pack that were hounding the entrance and into the building. As it was, in the chaos that ensued with their arrival she had taken her chance.

She waited for two minutes but nobody came to look for her. She had thus far been successful in her infiltration of Tracy Industries.

In LA, dressing yourself to hide yourself in the crowd meant to be attempting to stand out from everybody else around you. The black and white checkered jacket, smart black trousers and red beanie that formed her reporter’s uniform was measured as such, and was also her favourite disguise to date. Now, she pulled off the hat and jacket and stuffed them in her shoulder bag (along with her precious laptop), revealing a blue shirt underneath- standard uniform for the office workers in the building.

The press pass had gotten her through the front door, but now she had to get through the rest of the building, so she clipped a TI staff pass - _acquired_ from the front desk- to her hip and with her dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail she looked for all parts like another computer assistant.

There was still one thing missing- she pulled her glasses from the side pocket of her bag and put them on, blinking to adjust as the screen of the lens flashed into life. It felt reassuring to the Hacker to have the photon scrambler disguising her from the security cameras again.

The Hacker consulted her instructions which had been hidden in her reporter’s notepad. It was odd that her client was able to give her such specific instructions about where and how to access the information that they wanted her to steal, which told the Hacker that her client had already attempted to steal the information, gotten so far into the system before they had met resistance that they couldn’t overcome and had bailed out in favour of her more advanced methods.

The information was contained within a small sub-unit within Tracy Industries, meaning not just any computer would do. She would need to get to the computer labs on the twenty-first floor, so she climbed the stairs and dipped back into the building where she could catch a lift. She joined the thong of employees, at all time looking like she belonged there.

She casually checked for escape routes as she went in case things went south; a lot of the labs had blast shielding which would block the corridors in the event of an armed attack on the building, activated with big red alarms behind glass panels. She loved a big red button; it usually made things so much easier for her.

The Hacker made it to the twenty-first floor without any problem. Down a tangle of corridors she went until she came to a small computer lab. A swipe of the card and she was in.

Everybody in the lab was too wrapped up in their own thing to take any notice of her as she sat down at a computer, pulled her laptop out of her bag and wired it up into the system. She consulted her notes and a few taps later the jamming bubble was set up around the building. Now nobody inside the bubble would be able to call outside for help. Tracy Industries had become cut off from International Rescue.

With the company cut off from the help of the outside world, the defences provided by the computer system would prove no match for her self-programmed Zombite Virus. Logging into the system, the Hacker went a-hunting for the files marked under _Project Lucille_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm laughing that with the introduction of Havoc in the Chaos Crew, my OC the Hacker has pretty much been reduced to a pair of gloves! XD


End file.
